Bittersweet Victory
by imPERFECTology
Summary: One Shot: 'He hadn't been worthy of a single ounce of her love, he who had ignored and desecrated her.' When Harry Potter first received Slytherin Ice Queen Ginevra Weasley's diary, he was in for the shock of his life. AU after first year.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and anything affiliated with J..**

**Author's Notes: This was a plot I've been fiddling around with for a long time. It was originally meant to be a novella, but I found that I just didn't have the time to write something that long, so I condensed everything into a one-shot. The one-shot might be rather confusing considering the reader doesn't know much besides what Harry knows. My apologies for that, but considering this oneshot was based on the perspective of Harry to keep the element of mystery in it, I couldn't do much else.**

**Oneshot: H/G Soulmate Bond**

He couldn't feel anything besides the all encompassing pain.

Is that was the term soul mate meant? That they were literally half of your soul? Because the agony that was ripping through his body was killing him slowly, painfully, bit by bit. It was sheer torture, and he revelled in every moment of it, _enjoying it_. He deserved it, after all. He hadn't been worthy of a single ounce of her love, he, who had ignored and desecrated her. He was pathetic. He was nothing. He _would_ be nothing without her.

It had been purely physical, he had argued all last year. He didn't really love her. She was nothing to him. She was merely eye candy, something good to look at. But he hadn't _looked_ at her. He had _obsessed_ over her, wishing, wanting, but always denying his feelings to himself. There wasn't a chance in hell that a slimy _Slytherin_ could capture his heart. They were all Dark! They all served their beloved Dark Lord! And he had hated her with a passion ever since her first year, when he had condemned her for forsaking her family. She had everything he wanted, and she threw it away without a backward glance to join the very House that had been the bane of his existence.

Of course, he never paused in his tracks to think that, maybe, just maybe, that scared eleven year old girl hadn't _wanted_ to be in Slytherin.

Hindsight, as they say, is always twenty-twenty.

She wasn't a scared eleven year old child now anymore though. She grew into a beautiful young woman, renowned as the leader of the very House she hated. She blossomed, and he wasn't the only one who had noticed it. However, whenever he saw her around the majestic old castle she always had an icy mask of cold indifference on her face. Many from other houses laughed at her icy disposition. The term 'Ice Queen' became a frequent name used to describe her.

Staring at the worn leather book in his hand, he lovingly traced the golden script spelling the word 'Diary'. Why? Why couldn't she have told him sooner?

_Because you wouldn't have listened. You would have rejected her, thought she was telling lies, trying to ensnare you into a trap._

Ignoring his internal voice, he glanced around his gloomy surroundings. The cliff face dropped dramatically down behind him, illuminated by the flash of lightning in the distance. The wind howled eerily as the rain poured down in sheets onto him. She had been here not an hour ago. The trace of her magic could still be seen.

Following the path that she had travelled, he walked deeper and deeper into the forest. The darkness of the night didn't scare him. Nothing much did.

His nerves were on fire. Everything in him was screaming... screaming... he stumbled and began walking faster.

A grove of trees could be seen in the distance. Smiling grimly, he transformed into a giant black panther with glowing emerald eyes. Stalking through the forest, he twined his way around a tree as his cat like eyes took in the scene before him.

"Never," she spat out weakly, her hair draped limply around her soaked dress. Her eyes shone with power and confident defiance. She would never give in.

A figure in a dark cloak drawled out a reply, his wand at her neck. A white mask obscured his features, but he knew that it was Lord Malfoy who had his soul mate pinned on her back the instant he heard him speak.

"Such defiance. Our Lord will be pleased," Malfoy smirked, "It is only unfortunate that you fight for the wrong side. You will do well to throw your foolish ideals aside and join us, though your blood be traitorous. Our Lord would welcome you with open arms,"

"I've spent too much of my time with your Lord for my liking, Malfoy. And I'll join Tom the day hell freezes over," she declared, her chin tilted up.

He growled. She was magically exhausted, having fought over a dozen Death Eaters at the same time before succumbing to the remaining six. It was a bloody miracle she wasn't dead yet. She had already been in their clutches for a day. A day! He could see by the shivers that wracked her body that the thin nightgown wasn't protecting her from the harsh elements outside. He didn't dare cast a Warming Charm on her though. Malfoy might be arrogant, but he certainly wasn't stupid. He was proud of her though. Her eyes didn't flicker to where he was even once, although he knew from the book in his hands that she could sense him close by.

"Address him by his proper title, blood traitor," growled Malfoy, "I tire of this game, you stupid chit. Talk, or I assure you your lovely family will never see you again. Not that they would care. What an interesting predicament you find yourself in,"

Remorse and guilt washed over him, crashing on him in the form of waves of agony. How could he have let this happen to her? How could he have been so childish, so blind?

"You're one to talk," she answered bravely, sneering at the proud Malfoy patriot, "Your wife just divorced you and your son has run off with a mudblood. Probably can't stand the drivel you brainwash him with,"

"How dare you!" Malfoy cried in anger.

Raising his wand, the Cruciatus was on the tip of his tongue when, all of a sudden, he was grasping air.

"What the-" he cried in alarm.

Harry grinned in silent victory. Snapping Malfoy's wand in half with a smirk of his own, he squashed it under the heel of his dragon hide boot and strode into the clearing.

"What a lovely evening it is, gentlemen," Harry said casually, wand hanging loosely against his side.

"Potter," Malfoy sneered, "You little brat,"

"Malfoy. Fancy seeing you here," Harry continued on, batting aside his nemesis' insult. Nothing Malfoy could ever say would even inflict a degree of the damage the Dursleys had done to him.

"And look who we have! None other than Ginevra Weasley," Harry finished, tossing her a wink. She stared daggers at him, eyes flickering from him to the leather book in his hands.

"What the hell are you doing here, Potter?" she snarled furiously.

"Saving your arse," he drawled innocently, "What does it look like I'm doing?" She had every right to be angry at him. In fact, he wouldn't fault her for walking out of his life once and for all. He deserved everything being thrown at him. Yet as he saw the fire that burned in her usually emotionless eyes directed at him, he internally flinched.

Malfoy, glaring at the impudence that the Potter brat had, found his patience reaching the limit. Briskly ordering the six Death Eater thugs arrayed in a semicircle behind him to attack, he dove for the Weasley girl.

He was just a bit too late.

Harry Summoned an irritated girl to him just as he cast a reflective shield around them that bounced back the six Crucios that had just been carelessly thrown their way. As soon as he touched her, he felt instant relief and a powerful boost in his magic. Releasing the shield, he sent a magical shockwave that got rid two of the six Death Eaters rather effortlessly. He loved using this spell when confronted by small groups, no larger than ten, of usually rather stupid grunt Death Eaters. Dodging and rolling to avoid the Dark curses being thrown around by the remaining four Death Eaters, he despatched one quickly with a Stunner, another with a Bludgeoning Hex to the head, and a third with a high speed Banishing Charm that threw against a nearby tree. Facing down the last remaining Death Eater, who tried to run, Harry saved the man from the painful death he would have faced by returning to Voldemort empty handed. He cast an ancient version of the Avada Kedavra that had been used for executions in the Wizarding World before the discovery of the soul sucking Dementors.

Smiling at a paling Malfoy, Harry tossed the older man a Conjured sword. "I trust you know how to fence? Good. I try to never kill an unarmed man, you see," Harry said conversationally. Unsheathing his own Sword of Gryffindor, he bowed at the waist curtly before raising his sword.

"En garde, Malfoy," he cried, his eyes glinting with hidden fury. This... this _scum_ had attacked his soul mate _twice_ already. No, he had to pay.

"You're insane, Potter, to even think of defeating me," Malfoy said cockily, regaining his former confidence now that he had a weapon in his hands.

"Stop this, Potter," Ginevra' sharp voice cut through the cold night air. The rain had stopped now, and everything felt damp and misty. The earthy forest smell floated in the air.

"Excuse me?" he asked incredulously. He never turned his back on Malfoy though, who observed the conversation with interest. As he talked, he made sure that the Anti-Apparition Wards he had hastily cast was still secure around the area.

"You heard me," she hissed, "He's _mine_,"

Malfoy, who had regained a bit of his colour, gulped. Now the tables were being turned. The victim would now become the oppressor, the hunted now the hunter.

"You owe me this much," she added, her voice hard as stone as she glanced at the diary in his hands.

His expression softened dramatically as sorrow flashed across his face. Quickly Stunning Malfoy, he tied the wizard up and left him on the damp earth as he turned to face her.

"Ginevra, I-" he started, his eyes pleading.

"You've ruined enough of my life as it is, Potter," she said emotionlessly. She was tired, he could see. Her legs would give out soon, and yet she stood barefoot with only a nightgown on after suffering through who knows how many curses. Dark rings circled her eyes. Her porcelain skin was unhealthily devoid of colour, the red of her hair contrasting vividly.

He took a hesitant step towards her.

"Stay away from me,"

The words tumbled out. After all those dreams, all of her hard work, all for the man who was the object of her unrequited love...

"I can't," he said, pleading.

"Yes. Yes, you can. I did," she said bitterly. Turning away from an abject Harry Potter, she stalked over to the Stunned Malfoy and found her wand. Waving it in the air once, she Conjured a thick winter coat and a pair of boots onto her. Sufficiently bundled up now, she turned on her heel and tried to walk away.

He was there to catch her when she collapsed.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, eyes flashing furiously.

"Don't talk to her like that," a tall blonde defended, his voice holding a hint of steel.

"It's alright, Drake. He has a right to know," the brunette next to him said, her petite hand in his larger one squeezing softly. Turning to face the pacing raven haired boy in front of her, she sighed.

"It wasn't my secret to tell, Harry. It was hers, and only she could tell it to you," Hermione reasoned, "I didn't even find out until... well, until Draco chose me as his mate,"

"Mates. Bloody mates. It's like we don't even have a choice! Magic chooses for us!" Harry proclaimed angrily.

"It's not a bad thing, you know, Harry," Hermione frowned, "I couldn't imagine living a day without Draco with me. He completes me, just as Ginny does for you,"

"It's only too bad she's not even speaking to me," he said bitterly.

"It's your own fault," Draco's hard voice cut through Harry's moody speech, "It's your own bloody fault and you know it. Frankly, I don't get what she sees in you. She could do a lot better than someone who's had a part in making her life living hell. You didn't even give her the time of day, and she sacrificed six years of her life for you,"

"I know that," he ground out, collapsing onto an armchair, "Do you think I don't? Of course it's my fault, but I didn't know any better! No one ever told me!"

"Well then you should have bloody figured it out yourself!" Draco angrily said.

"It's useless pointing fingers now!" Hermione exclaimed, "Draco, Harry really didn't know, alright? Most of it isn't his fault. As for you, Harry. Well, now that you know, what are you going to do about it?"

"Spend the rest of my life making her happy," Harry said dejectedly, "Which, according to her, means staying away from her,"

"I know Ginny better than anyone else, and I can tell you that that isn't making her happy," Draco snorted.

"Really? She seems perfectly fine to me too," Harry snorted.

"Sarcasm won't get you anywhere, Harry," Hermione said patiently, "Listen to what Draco has to say,"

"Yes, Mum," Harry replied automatically, grinning sheepishly as he caught the indignant look Hermione shot him.

"Right then, so we both know that she's being stubborn as hell and you aren't much better," Draco said, leaning back on the loveseat he was sharing with Hermione.

"Agreed. Moving along..." Harry said sullenly.

"Which is why I'm going to give you the password to her room so that you can both come to terms with what has happened and what's going to happen," Draco finished.

Harry's expression brightened.

"Really? Thanks, mate!" Harry said, leaping up.

"Hold on, Casanova," Hermione warned, "She isn't feeling particularly kind towards you right now, you know,"

"I know," Harry said impatiently, "I think her death glares got the point across,"

"So be careful, okay?" Hermione said.

"What she means," Draco added, "Is that if you hurt her, we'll hurt you,"

"I won't hurt her," Harry said truthfully.

"Not intentionally," Draco said darkly.

* * *

How was he supposed to do this? He had only one chance; one shot. He couldn't mess this up.

_I hate him! The bloody prat ruined practically half my life! And yet I have to thank him too, for he has given me a purpose, a reason to live for, again. After what Tom did and after the fiasco that was my first year... if I didn't have the knowledge I gained from the Chamber, I would have been torn to pieces by the Slytherin hyenas. _

This particular passage in her diary, written around a year ago, had stuck into his mind as he hurriedly skimmed and absorbed as much as he could about the mystery that was Ginevra Weasley. She loved him, he knew that much. She would always love him, just as he was bound to her for eternity. There really wasn't a choice. _They_ didn't have a choice.

"_Nemesssisss_," Harry hissed in Parseltongue. He smiled sadly at Ginevra's choice of a password, but understood her reasoning behind it. He had partially guess her password already before Draco told it to him. Her entire life had been based upon revenge, according to her diary. It was fitting that she would pay homage to Nemesis. Ginevra had really reflected upon her personality in those pages, and knew herself better than most people did. Hell, even he couldn't believe how thoroughly and detachedly she had analyzed herself.

As the door swung open, a cold voice resounded from within.

"Leave, Harry,"

Of course she would know it was him. She could sense him, just as he was acutely aware of her wherever he went. He had first started realizing this in his fifth year, especially when Dumbledore removed his power block early in the year and began intensive training with him on how to control his power. Besides, he was the only other Parselmouth in the castle.

"Not until we sit down and talk," he said stubbornly. Entering her quarters, he closed the door shut behind him and looked around.

They were decorated in neutral black and white colours with undertones of emerald that provided a very peaceful and modern background. The small commons area he was in had a sofa and an armchair arranged around a rug that lay under a low wooden table strewn with parchment and textbooks. Two doors led away from the small room; one to her bedroom, presumably, and the other to her bathroom.

She was curled up on the left seat of the couch, her feet tucked underneath her, as her eyes flickered from word to word. The tome she was holding in her hand obviously came from Dumbledore. Harry recognized it as a particularly dry volume on warding spells Dumbledore had forced him to read.

"You know, _The Idiot's Guide To Warding_ is much better," Harry remarked as he walked towards her.

"Yes, and I also know that I asked you to leave me alone and you've ignored my wishes," Ginevra said calmly, turning the page.

"It's rather childish of you to keep ignoring me. I'm not a problem that will go away, Ginevra," Harry said, taking a seat next to her.

"Get. Out," she said with a forced calmness that put Harry on guard.

"So I can't even talk with my soul mate?" he probed.

Ginevra abruptly put down her tome with a resounding slam.

"It wouldn't be very difficult for me to renounce our bond, Potter," she said angrily, "And you're making it awfully tempting,"

Harry relished anger much better than indifference... until her words sank in.

"You wouldn't," he said instantly, although he knew from reading her diary that she had, indeed, contemplated it more than once.

"Yes, I would," she said curtly, "And consider you have no respect for my privacy, you know it too,"

"Look, about that... I..." Harry tried to start.

"I'm not listening to anything you spout, Potter," she said, eyes hardening. Glaring one last time at Harry, she made to leave her quarters.

"Five minutes. Just listen. Please," Harry begged, his hand catching her wrist.

"Give me one good reason why," Ginevra said, glancing down at the hand that encircled her wrist.

"Because even though I know you probably hate me right now, I love you. I love you! I can't help it, like you couldn't, but I do. I love you," he repeated fervently, imploringly.

She wavered.

"Please?" he implored once more.

"Five minutes," she said at last, sitting down on the armchair.

"Four minutes and fifty nine seconds," she said as he took a seat next to her.

He ran a hand nervously through his thick dark hair once before beginning to speak without preamble.

"I was always jealous of you, you know. You had the perfect family; six older brothers and parents who couldn't love you anymore. So I felt rather... well, rather angry at you for just throwing everything away and becoming a Slytherin. I was still heavily prejudiced then. Slytherins, to me, equated evil. I'm sorry, so sorry, for everything that year. I was still a prat then, just as I am now. It seems like I'm never good enough for you," he started, his lips twisting up into an ironic smile.

"Then there was the Chamber. Tom nearly killed Hermione, and at the time I remember questioning why Dumbledore had allowed you in the school, why he had allowed Tom to wreak such havoc in Hogwarts. He nearly killed four students,"

A tear rolled down her cheek.

"Please don't cry," he begged, reaching for her hesitantly. When she didn't respond and continued to stare blankly at her lap, he wrapped his arms around her into a hug and felt relief for the first time in days. She was here. She was in his arms.

"I don't blame you. I didn't back then either. I just... everything just came crashing down. I was alienated by the student population, and to find it was really you being controlled by Tom behind everything... but I can tell you honestly that when I found you in the Chamber that day was the most horrifying moment in my life. I guess even at twelve I knew that you were mine, and that I was yours.

"You weren't really on my mind much after that. Sirius was, and then Cho, and... oh God, Ginevra, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I really didn't know... if I were in your shoes, I'd have been driven insane!"

Just the thought of her being with someone else, _anyone_ else, was enough to make him see red. And to think... there was Cho, the pretty Ravenclaw seeker, and then there was Susan Bones, and literally a parade of girls after them that were passing fancies of his. He had been desperately searching for someone that was perfect for him then, driven by a need that he couldn't quite understand.

"Fifth year. Fifth year, Dumbledore finally unblocked my magic and helped me to control it. I remember when he first released my bound reserves... I felt love and happiness and the feeling was incredible... you did a much better job of describing it in your diary... my magic must have reached out and touched yours. That year was filled with training. Training in Occlumency and training in battle magic. That was the year that I first realized something crucial was missing from my life. That year I began searching for someone; I didn't know who then, but it was always you in the end.

"Sixth year started and you were... you were just... there, suddenly. I hadn't noticed you before, and now you were everything to me. I have to admit I became a bit obsessed with you, although it wasn't like Cho again. It was more like I had this burning need to know you, to _have_ you, to be with you. I thought it was purely physical at first. This was also the year Hermione became involved with Draco and I slowly came to realize that not all Slytherins were junior Death Eaters. Draco showed me that, I think.

"One day, Dumbledore came bursting into the Room of Requirement during my training session and told me that you were captured by Death Eaters. I thought you were on yourself, considering most of the House seems to worship the ground you walk on. But something strange happened. When he told me that you were gone, it was like the world had suddenly ended. I didn't like that a lot, the fact that you had such power over me. I questioned Dumbledore about you, and he gave me this,"

Gently releasing her from his hug, he handed her diary back to her.

"Thank you," she said, her hand trembling as she took it back from him and placed it in the pocket of her robe.

"You know what happened after that, Ginevra," Harry started.

"Ginny," she interrupted.

Hope blossomed in his chest.

"Are – are you sure?" he asked.

"I wouldn't have said anything if I wasn't," she said scathingly.

Obviously she hadn't forgiven him that much.

"Thanks... Ginny. Ginny, I really am sorry. I know I've been the biggest prat over the years, but I swear it's because I didn't know about this bond between us," Harry said earnestly. He craved for her touch now, and hesitantly reached over to take her hand into one of his. She looked away but didn't stop him.

"I'd understand if you never wanted to talk to me again," Harry continued.

"Don't be stupid. We're stuck with each other," she said with a faint smile before her expression turned serious again, "But I don't want to jump into a relationship with you. I waited for six years, Harry. I... I don't think I could go through that again, and if-"

"You're my life now, Ginny," Harry said sincerely.

"We'll see about that," she said.

"So does that mean you'll forgive me?" Harry asked hopefully.

Ginny's face remained blank for a very long second before she finally smiled at Harry. "There really wasn't anything to forgive. I know that it isn't your fault. Dumbledore didn't want you to know before it was absolutely necessary, and neither did I. It wouldn't be fair for you to become involved with me just because of a soul bond that you didn't discover for yourself. I didn't want to take away your free will. But I will say that if you put me through that again intentionally, I'll kill myself,"

Harry knew that Ginny didn't mean that last sentence as part of any dramatics. It had been a logically, albeit rather drastic under normal circumstances, reasoned out conclusion. After all, killing herself would be the only way for her to escape the hold the soul bond had on her and to renounce Harry as her soul mate. It also had the added bonus of ensuring Harry didn't live beyond a day of the second she died, and that for every minutes after her death he would suffer as if he were under the Cruciatus.

So Harry simply nodded gravely and swore, "You are my life now, Ginevra Weasley, forever and always. I don't know what I was thinking all those years ago..."

"I'll believe it when I see it,"

"Will you be my girlfriend, then?"

"I think we're a bit beyond that, don't you?"

"Good point. Does soul mate work? Will you become my soul mate?"

"I already am. I didn't have very much choice in that matter, now did I?"

"A kiss, at least?"

"Don't press your luck,"

**It was rather short, wasn't it? If you wish, please leave your comments concerning my attempt at writing. I was listening to OneRepublic's first album when I wrote this, so consider searching up some of their songs. They're all excellent, and they suit the mood quite well. I am contemplating posting Ginny's side of this story, depending on the feedback I receive. However, I don't think I could fit her into a mere 4000 words.**

**Thank you for reading =D**


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